


Teenage Satellites

by littlefaerielights



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-16 03:22:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14155551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlefaerielights/pseuds/littlefaerielights
Summary: But the bees were suddenly birds and flying around in his chest. He could feel their wings violently flapping against his ribs, their beaks angrily pecking against his organs, aching to escape. He imagined black birds tearing his throat open and flying around his room, singing of his love for his best friend while he bled to death in Richie’s arms.





	1. Butterflies, Bees, and Birds

Watching Richie smoke in his window, Eddie thought it should be _illegal_ to be that fucking beautiful. Especially while smoking because, _really,_ who gave him the _right_ to look that beautiful while killing himself? It wasn’t _fair_. And he was very well aware that he was staring because, like, how could he not? And if Richie noticed, he didn’t say anything, because he was too busy looking at the stars and being fucking _perfect_ with that goddamn cigarette hanging between his fingers and Eddie was reminded once again how much he loved Richie’s hands. And he was half hidden in the shadow from the chimney and the light from the full moon was hitting him on his bare chest, illuminating the tattoo on his ribs and honestly? Eddie could just _die_.

“You’re staring, Eds.”

Richie hadn’t looked over at him, but he could hear the smirk in his unusually husky voice and butterflies erupted in Eddie’s chest because _why the fuck did he have to fall in love with his best friend?_ And he tried really hard to come up with some witty remark to throw back at him to start their familiar banter, but his brain didn’t want to work because Richie was fucking beautiful right now and he was set on memorizing the image in front of him, so what came out instead was:

“You’re really pretty.”

Which was better, really, than _you’re fucking beautiful_ because that could’ve done more damage. But still. Guys don’t just _say_ that to each other. Yeah, Richie called him _cute cute cute_ all the time, but that was just _Richie_. And pretty is totally different than _cute_. Cute is for kittens and babies and people like Eddie because he was _small_. When he finally got the courage to look up at Richie, he realized why ribcages were a thing because his heart was about to beat out of his chest with the look Richie was giving him. Eddie had never seen that look in his eyes before. And he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t, because he was scared if opened his mouth, the butterflies flying around his chest would escape and fly around the room. But… _why wasn’t he saying anything?_ Eddie took a deep breath and hoped for the best.

“Chee?”

Richie smiled at the sound of Eddie’s voice or the nickname or both and threw his cigarette outside and that _smile_ was honestly enough to make him melt into a fucking puddle. It was like the sun had been unleashed into his room and Eddie almost wanted to reach for his sunglasses on his nightstand just for dramatic effect. Richie stepped down from the window, closed it, and walked over to the bed.

“Mm, my Eddie Spaghetti, you’re _fucking beautiful_.”

And, _oh_ , his voice was like sweet warm dripping honey now and Eddie wanted to bathe in it. He felt the bed dip down from Richie’s weight and watched as he sat in front of him with his legs crossed underneath him. They were close, almost too close and he smelled like smoke, fresh air, and peppermint. It was _intoxicating_. His eyes were sparkling and he was looking at Eddie like he was the fucking sun and holy shit, what did he do to deserve that? And suddenly, Richie was touching his face, eyes full of wonder and awe and lightly rubbing his thumb over his freckles because he’d always loved Eddie’s freckles. The butterflies morphed into angry fucking bees and they were pounding against his ribcage, demanding to be set free.

“You’re _everything_ , Eds.”

And Eddie was scared to open his mouth now, because if he did, the bees would fly out and sting them both. So he leaned into Richie’s touch, enjoying the feeling of his thumb caressing his freckles, because _this_ is what it felt like to be loved. Even if it wasn’t the love he wanted, he could still feel love in his touch. Eddie reached over and brushed the hair out of Richie’s eyes before pushing his glasses up and was rewarded with a gentle smile, one that had always been saved only for him. Eddie was the only one who got to see the sweet, soft side of Richie and he didn’t know _what_ that meant, but he tried not to think about it.

“So _goddamn_ beautiful.”

Richie’s words were so quiet, Eddie wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear them. But the bees were suddenly birds and flying around in his chest. He could feel their wings violently flapping against his ribs, their beaks angrily pecking against his organs, aching to escape. He imagined black birds tearing his throat open and flying around his room, singing of his love for his best friend while he bled to death in Richie’s arms. He begged for them to settle down so he could breathe. He turned his head to press a gentle kiss to Richie’s palm and his cheeks were suddenly painted a lovely shade of pink. Eddie decided that this was his favorite color.

_“Pretty.”_

That was all Eddie was capable of saying, apparently. But he was surprised he _could_ speak with the fucking birds in his chest and his heart fighting to break free of its confinement. It felt like his ribs were cracking under all of the pressure. He watched with satisfaction as Richie’s freckles changed from pink to red and his eyes widened a little from behind his glasses. He reached out and lightly ran a finger along his cheekbone, and smiled when Richie closed his eyes at his touch.

“We should sleep.”

Eddie could practically feel the honey that was Richie’s voice dripping over his skin when he dropped his hand. He nodded in agreement, not trusting himself to speak. The vision of the black birds ripping open his throat was still fresh in his mind as he pulled back the blankets and waited for Richie to lie down next to him. They started clawing at his throat, though, when Richie pulled him close to his chest and Eddie wondered if he could feel his heart fighting to escape.

“Good night, my Spaghetti.”

He was draped in velvet now, because that’s how fucking soft Richie’s voice was and his racing heart was Eddie’s lullaby as it ran a marathon under his ear. Richie’s skin was warm and electric, burning him wherever they touched and Eddie wondered if he could feel it, too.

“Good night, Chee.”

Eddie felt like his words were apart of the night, weighed down with secrets he would never tell. He let Richie hold him, even though he knew if it would never mean the same way to Richie as it did to him and he tried not to let it break his heart.


	2. fireworks are fucking cliché

Richie was not an artist. He was a musician and at best, a mediocre poet, but fuck, he wished he was a painter like Bill because Eddie was so _fucking gorgeous_ and the image of him right now deserved to be preserved forever on a canvas. But unfortunately, Richie wasn’t an artist and he couldn’t paint anything better than a stick figure and his Eddie deserved _so_ much better than that.

So, Richie settled himself on trying to memorize the way Eddie looked like with water droplets on his shoulders, the water pooling in the hollows of his collarbones, and the way the moonlight reflected in his hazel eyes like it fucking _belonged_ there. And honestly, now that Richie thought about it, it probably did. He tried to memorize the way he ran his fingers through his wet hair and how his laughter ran out through the night like pretty little bells. It almost broke his heart with how beautiful Eddie was and he tried so fucking hard to commit this sight to memory. _God_ , why had he never taken up painting?

“You’re not subtle, Tozier.” Stan nudged his shoulder and Richie could _hear_ the smirk in his best friend’s voice. He knew he wasn’t and he couldn’t bring himself to care. He just wanted to watch Eddie swim and listen to the music that was his laughter.

“I can’t help it, Stanny,” Richie protested. “He’s just so _beautiful_. And anyway, _you’re_ one to talk. I’ve caught you staring at Mikey _plenty_ of times!”

“Okay, but the difference is, Richie, I’m actually _dating_ Mike.” Stan pointed out. Richie shrugged and hummed a response because as much as he hated to admit it, Stan _did_ have a point. But was he going to let him know that? Stan nudged his shoulder again and Richie ripped his eyes away from Eddie splashing at Bev to look at him. “And you’re just… _pathetically pining._ ”

“Oh, I’m _so_ happy you get amusement out of my pain.”

“Always.” Stan smirked, eyes sparkling. Richie rolled his eyes and lit another cigarette. “But really though, _what_ are you going to do about it?”

“Admire him from afar.” Richie sighed, turning back to look at Eddie. Stan grabbed his chin and forced him to look at him.

“Admire him from afar?” he snorted. “You _literally_ can’t keep your hands off of him. _You’re not subtle_.” He rolled his eyes and dropped his hand. “I’m surprised Bill isn’t _dead_ from the fucking glare you were sending him earlier when we were playing chicken and Eddie was on his shoulders. You weren’t even in the water, dumbass.”

Richie shrugged and rested his chin on his knees. “Could’ve paired with Bevvie.”

Stan laughed. “No. That wouldn’t work. They pretty much weigh the same. Anyway, it’s not like Bill would do anything, dipshit. He doesn’t like Eddie like _that_. Everyone knows how you feel about him.” he plucked the cigarette from Richie’s fingers and took a drag. “Other than Eddie because you’re both gay and stupid.”

Richie opened his mouth to protest then closed it again before nodding. “I—I can’t even argue with that because I honestly feel like that’s how I should introduce myself now.”

“You don’t need to.” Stan smirked, passing him the cigarette back. “You already give off the vibe.”

“Asshole.” Richie shook his head before turning to look at Eddie again. He was talking to Bev now and it looked like he was fucking _glowing_.

“You’re pathetic.”

“ _You’re_ pathetic.”

“Oh, okay, if we’re going to play that game…”

“Oh, I _do not_ like that tone.”

“I dare you to go kiss Eddie. _Right fucking now_.” Stan smirked. Richie turned to glare at him.

“Oh, _fuck you_ , Stanley.” He growled. “You _know_ I can’t turn down a dare.”

“Exactly,” Stan looked annoyingly pleased with himself. “That’s why I said it. I’m getting tired of you bursting through my window at three in the fucking morning complaining about how much you love Eddie but you refuse to _do_ anything about it because you don’t want to fuck up your relationship with him.” he sighed. “I love you, Richie. You’re my best friend, and I wouldn’t push this if I knew it would hurt you. Just fucking do it.”

He knew, logically, that Stan was right. But that didn’t stop him from being annoyed. He pushed himself up off of the ground and walked to the water. He was walking backwards, holding both middle fingers up while Stan laughed the whole time. As soon as he was waist deep, he felt a small body latch on to his back. Familiar legs wrapping around his waist and freckled arms draping over his shoulders. In that moment, Richie swore that his heart stopped beating.

“Gotcha!” Eddie giggled in his ear.

“Mm, you caught me.” He responded breathlessly, holding onto his thighs. “And you’re _mine_ now.”

Eddie hummed, thinking. He rested his elbows on his shoulders now and lightly tangled his fingers in his hair. “Yours?”

“Yup, all mine.” Richie nodded. He tried not to think about Eddie’s fingers in his hair, his legs wrapped around his waist, and the how his voice sounded in his ear. “That okay with you, Eddie Spaghetti?”

Eddie hummed, his legs tightening around his waist. “I guess so…” he said, drawing his response out and Richie laughed, tightening his grip on legs. If heaven was real, he was there. “Where are you taking me?” his voice was low and playful in his ear.

“Away.” Richie said simply, walking until he was chest deep and he knew if Eddie wasn't attached to him like an octopus, he’d be up to his neck. They were half hidden in the shadows, the pale moonlight touching Eddie’s back and he carefully swung him around from his back to his front. They were close enough for Richie to count his freckles. He slid his hands up from his thighs to rest on his hips and squeezed lightly, smiling when Eddie shivered. “You’re fucking _beautiful_.” He murmured, and he surprised himself by pressing a light kiss to his shoulder. He heard Eddie’s breath hitch.

And, honestly? Richie had never been more grateful for Stan’s endless need to annoy/spite him in his entire life because this was it. But Richie would never give Stan the satisfaction of letting him know he was right. Because he’d never let it go. Ever. But Eddie’s eyes were _on fire_ and everywhere that his body touched his was _burning_. And really, Eddie wasn’t playing fair. Not with the way he was still absently playing with his hair and just _staring_ at him with those _goddamn_ hazel eyes that were about three shades darker than usual and biting his lip? Who gave him _the right?_ When Richie gently moved his hand to the small of his back to pull him even closer, he blushed the loveliest shade of red Richie had ever seen and Richie was like, ninety percent sure he was going to die. Like, right there. He ran his other hand up Eddie’s side, causing him to shiver again, _and this was new. They’ve never done this before. This was new and there was no going back from this._ His fingers left a trail of water along his neck, slowly dripping down and landing in the hollows of his beautiful collarbones. Richie wanted to kiss them. He gulped and locked eyes with Eddie, resting his hand on his cheek. His poor heart wasn’t getting a break tonight because Eddie fucking turned his head and _kissed the palm of his hand_. The water was cold but Richie was on _fucking fire_. When Eddie turned back to face him, still leaning into his touch with parted lips, Richie softly ran his thumb along his bottom lip and felt him gasp and his skin burn.

“Richie…”

And the way Eddie said his name was honestly all Richie needed to close the small distance between them. There weren’t fireworks because fireworks are _fucking cliché_ and they _aren’t_ a fucking cliché. Then again, Richie also hadn’t expected there to _be_ fireworks because Eddie was _familiar_ , Eddie was _home_. Kissing Eddie felt like a weight had been lifted off of his chest and he could finally _breathe_. They kissed hungrily, too, because t _his was what they’d been denying themselves_. It was like Richie had been starving and he hadn’t realized until now because _now_ , he felt _full_.

Eddie’s lips were so fucking _soft_. They were smooth and cold from the water and the night air but they felt so good against Richie’s chapped ones. And he tasted like what Richie imagined heaven to taste like. Strawberries, mint, something _sweet_ he couldn’t quite place, and water and _fuck_ , Richie couldn’t get enough. He was already addicted. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip and Eddie gasped, allowing him entry. He happily licked into his mouth and Eddie’s fingers suddenly tightened in his hair and oh no, he tugged, earning a moan from Richie and he felt the smile against his lips. He gripped at Eddie’s hips tighter, pulling him closer, closer, _closer_ , and bit down on his bottom lip. This time, he moaned and holy fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest fucking sound Richie’s ever heard… They pulled apart, panting, and stared at each other for a few minutes.

 _“Fuck.”_ Richie whispered because… _fuck_. His brain was like t.v. static right now and all he could focus on was Eddie’s lips and how they felt against his and the way they tasted. Like, really, Richie had kissed a lot of guys before, but none of them could even try to compare to what Eddie just fucking did to him. No that shit was like Disney level magic.

“Oh my god,” Eddie nodded. “Yeah.” His cheeks were pink as he ran his fingers through Richie’s hair. There was a mischievous glint to them and Richie knew what was coming before it happened. He bit his lip as Eddie tugged on his hair and he moaned again. Eddie’s eyes lit up when he laughed. “Oh, so that’s a thing, is it?”

“Eddie…”

He hummed and looked around, gently running his fingers through Richie’s hair before meeting his gaze again, that same fucking look in his eyes. Eddie smirked and tugged on his hair again, hard. Richie muffled his moan this time by attacking Eddie’s neck, effectively stopping his laughter and earning a lovely, quiet whimper. Richie smiled against his skin and continued to lightly bite and kiss down his neck before reaching his collarbones. He kissed across them, hot open mouth kisses and Eddie’s fingers were tangled in his hair again. Richie was sure there would be bruises on his hips in the shape of his hands with how hard he was gripping them. “Stop making out over there!” Stan yelled from the shore and Richie dropped his head.

“Mother _fucker_.” He cursed, pulling Eddie further into the shadows. “Fuck off, Stanley!” he yelled back, because like, _really_? It was his goddamn idea…Laughter rang out into the night and Eddie hid his face in the crook of Richie’s neck. “Fucking _Stan_.” He muttered and Eddie laughed, wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

“Mm, moment’s ruined, though.” He said softly before climbing back onto Richie’s back.

“But… I wanted to keep you to myself…” he whined, tugging a little on his feet and leaning back to pout. Eddie laughed and ran a finger over his lips.

“We can’t stay in the water forever.” He said. “We’ll get all pruney and look old and gross.” He kicked at Richie’s side. “You’re too pretty to get pruney and old and gross so young, you know?”

Richie laughed and kissed his arm, slowly walking them towards the shore. “Maybe, but I’ll still love you if you get all pruney.”

“And old and gross?”

“And old and gross.” Richie rolled his eyes. “Fucking _loser_.”

“Mm, but I’m your loser.”

“All mine.”


	3. Addicted

Bill’s car was _not_ meant for seven people. It barely fit them when they were sixteen when he first got it and affectionately named it Betty, but now they were all pushing eighteen and Eddie had no idea why Bill still insisted on trying to shove them all in his small Saturn Aura when Richie and Stan had perfectly good cars at home. But no, Bev was still on Ben’s lap, he was still on Richie’s lap and poor Stan was stuck in the middle. Bev and Richie were both smoking, but where Richie just had his arm hanging out of the window, Bev was half of her body hanging out of the car and Ben was holding onto her waist for dear life. Mike had his feet up on the dashboard, scrolling through his phone for the next song and Bill was speeding down the back roads outside of town.

“Billy, this is like, _hella_ illegal.” Richie commented. Bill looked at him in the rearview and rolled his eyes.

“When have _you_ cared about doing anything illegal, Trashmouth?” he countered, pushing down a little on the gas pedal.

“Oh, you know I don’t, Big Bill.” Richie smirked. “ _But_ if you let me bring _my_ car like I wanted to in the first place…” he narrowed his eyes at Bill. “I could totally be at home by now, you know, making out with Eds instead of being packed inside your fucking car.”

“Beep beep, Richie.”

Bev pulled herself back into the car and Eddie felt Stan breathe a sigh of relief. He smiled and leaned into Richie. “Okay, Richie, _one_ , it’s like, four in the fucking morning and there are _literally_ no cops out. And _two_ , it’s Derry. When have the cops _ever_ given a shit in the first place?” she pointed out and Richie shrugged.

“All I’m saying is, if we brought two cars, I could be home by now and making out with my Eddie Spaghetti.” He said simply, pulling Eddie closer to him.

“Wait, can you imagine if we got into a crash like this?” Ben piped up.

“We’d all _die_.”

“At least we’d die together, Benny.” Bev smiled, kissing him sweetly on the cheek.

“Yeah, but like, _still_.”

“Okay, I vote we stop talking about getting in a crash.” Mike said, turning around.

“Well, it doesn’t help that none of you assholes wear seatbelts.” Bill added.

“Hey!” Mike protested. “What did I say?”

“I mean, he makes a valid point.” Ben said.

“ _You_ don’t wear a seatbelt!” Stan glared at him.

“I’m just agreeing.” Ben shrugged. “Anyway, Bill’s a good driver.”

“Aw, thank you, Benny.”

“He’s _literally_ speeding right now.” Eddie muttered.

“Speeding _carefully_.” Bev reached over Stan and playfully kicked him.

“Is that a thing?”

“We haven’t crashed or gotten pulled over, have we?”

“Yeah, let’s not jinx it.” Stan sighed.

“It’s not like we’d have to worry about getting pulled over anyway.” Mike added. “But Eddie’s right, Bill, you should slow down.”

Bill rolled his eyes and let up on the gas.

\----

The climb up the tree to get into Eddie’s room was clumsy and rushed. Richie lost his footing and almost fell back onto Eddie and Eddie grabbed the wrong branch and came _this_ close to falling down. When they finally made into Eddie’s room, they fell into a heap onto each other, laughing loudly. They covered each other’s mouths with their hands, trying to muffle the sound, careful not to wake Mrs. K. It took a few minutes to calm down before they fell into each other, crashing their lips together into a sloppy kiss. It was wet—all teeth and they were still smiling, clutching at each other desperately.

And that was when Eddie decided his favorite thing to do was kiss Richie.

Because even though _this_ one was messy and wet and sloppy, it still sent chills down his spine. When they pulled apart, they were breathless and still smiling and Richie pulled him to his lap. “I—“ his voice was quiet and shaking and made Eddie’s heart race. _“I love you.”_ he whispered and Richie looked so fucking vulnerable, it kind of threw Eddie off guard. “I have since I was fourteen. I just—I just want you to know that.” He continued and he was cupping his face with those _big hands_ so softly, delicately, and Eddie could _feel_ the love in his touch and he was fucking putty in his hands. His eyes were so wide and Eddie swore Richie held his own galaxies in those baby blues.

Eddie kissed him quickly, softly, and it wasn’t _enough_. “I love you, too.” And the words that he’d been holding back since he was thirteen were finally _out there_ and holy fuck, he felt so much _lighter_. The smile that spread across Richie’s face was brighter than the sun and it was in that moment that Eddie realized he would do anything he could to see that smile every _goddamn_ day of his life. “I have since I was thirteen. That night when we built a blanket fort in your room, remember? It was the first night of summer…” and Richie kissed him again, but it was _different_. It was soft, sweet, and their lips moved together slowly. He could still feel Richie’s smile against his lips and it was honestly the most beautiful thing he’d ever experienced.

They pulled apart again, staring at each other in a whole new light. Richie leaned against the bed, pulling Eddie with him. Eddie changed his position in his lap to straddle him and watched with interest as Richie’s eyes widened. He moved his hands to his hair and leaned into kiss him again because, really, kissing Richie was _fucking addicting_. Eddie needed _more, more, more._

Because Richie tasted like nicotine and candy and it was _delicious_. And the _sounds_ he made… If Eddie pulled his hair, he earned the most _sinful_ moans and if he bit his lip, he received the _neediest_ whimpers and if he kissed along his jaw and down his neck, he got these little breathless _whines_. And while they kissed, Richie’s hands _roamed_. And feeling his hands _all over his body_ was almost too much. Wherever his hands touched, his skin _burned_ and Eddie couldn’t get enough. Honestly, Eddie was like, ninety percent sure he had died and gone to heaven. And even if he hadn’t, sitting on Richie’s lap with his lap kissing down his neck and tongue running along his collarbone was pretty fucking close. Eddie’s fingers were threaded in his beautiful curls and he tugged, smirking a little when Richie bit down on his shoulder to muffle his moan, but _oh, fuck_ , that felt _good_.

“Do that again.”

Richie pulled away and looked at him. His eyes were blown wide with lust and alone was enough to fucking _kill_ him, but Eddie could see that goddamn mischievous glint he knew so well and he _almost_ regretted saying something. His voice was low and husky and _so fucking hot_. “Oh, is that a _thing_?” he raised an eyebrow, lightly running a finger over his collarbone and Eddie shivered. Richie bit down on the sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder and he resisted the urge to moan because goddammit, he was _not_ going to give Richie the satisfaction, but Richie knew him too well and he pulled away again, eyes sparkling. “Oh, come _on_ , baby.” And, _oh_ , Eddie didn’t know how much he’d like Richie calling him _baby_ until it happened. He bit down again and Eddie moaned, digging his nails into his back. He felt Richie smile. “I _knew_ it.” He laughed, pulling away and he looked so fucking beautiful with kiss swollen lips and flushed cheeks that Eddie chased after him again because even though they’d been kissing for _god knows how long_ now, he still felt so fucking _starved_ for him. He could never get enough of Richie, he _would never_ get enough of Richie.

 _His_ Richie.

And honestly, this felt so _natural_. Because they were never _just friends_. They had always been _RichieandEddie_ , never one without the other. Like, there was this line between friends and _morethanfriends_ and they had crossed it a long, long time ago and neither of them had ever acknowledged it. They just continued with the flirting, the touching, the _cuddling_ , and ignored the obvious chemistry between them.

Richie pulled away from sucking another hickey on his neck and Eddie would probably have to deal with that later, but it _felt so good_ he couldn’t bring himself to care, and stared at him with those wide eyes again. “I can hear you thinking, bug. What’s wrong?”

Eddie smiled and brushed some of the hair out of his face. “Just thinking about how natural this feels.”

Richie pressed a soft kiss to a bite mark on his shoulder and nodded. “It does, doesn’t it?”

And he looked so goddamn beautiful in the early morning light, it made Eddie’s heart hurt. He could clearly see now how swollen his red lips were from all the biting and kissing, the way his curls were sticking out in all directions from the way he’d been pulling on them, how flushed his cheeks were, and his eyes were shining like the sun was rising from them instead of the horizon and all Eddie could think was _RichieRichieRichie_ and how the image of how beautiful he looked right now was burned into his eyelids. He needed to kiss him _right now_ or he was going to _die_ so he threaded his fingers back in his hair and did just that. Richie gasped in surprise and tried to pull him even closer.

Eddie was _defiantly_ addicted to kissing Richie and he was one hundred percent okay with it.


	4. Windows

After Eddie kicked Richie out so Mrs. K wouldn’t find them with a lingering kiss, Richie didn’t go home. Instead, he walked to Stan’s house, which was only a ten minute walk while he smoked a cigarette, remembering the feel of Eddie’s lips on his. He climbed the drainpipe to Stan’s window, humming a random tune and let himself in through the unlocked window.

 

“You know where to put your shoes.” was his greeting.

 

“Mm, good morning to _you,_ too, Stanny, my love.” Richie sang, hiding his shoes on the small plastic tray under the bed and took his jeans off before jumping on the bed and wrapping his arms around Stan’s waist. He rested his chin on his chest and smiled up at his best friend. Stan hummed and rolled his eyes before pulling the blankets up around them and wrapping his arms around Richie.

 

“Mm, what’re you doing here?”

 

“Oh, I can’t just want to come and see my bestie?” he asked innocently. Stan raised an eyebrow.

 

“You haven’t climbed through my window in years _just because_.” He looked over his best friend’s face.

 

Richie’s arms tightened around Stan’s waist as he tried to cuddle closer to him. The corner of Stan’s lips twitched up and Richie smiled. “Well, I did today.” He said softly, resting his cheek against his chest.

 

“Did you just leave Eddie’s?” Stan asked.

 

“He kicked me out before Mrs. K woke up. Like always.” Richie tangled their legs together, needing more affection. He loved soft Stan. He felt like he and Mike were probably the only ones who knew that side of him and Richie was only so lucky because he’d known Stan since they were in diapers.

 

“Figured, you’re a little touchier than usual.” Stan said gently. He started running his fingers through Richie’s hair, trying to tame the tangled curls. He closed his eyes at the gentle touch.

 

“Mm, I just need my Stanny today.” Richie muttered, smiling up at him. Stan rolled his eyes and continued to comb through the mess of hair.

 

“How’d Eddie’s go?” he asked. Richie perked up and sat up a little, propping his chin back up on Stan’s chest.

 

“Well, _obviously,_ we made _the fuck_ out.” He started.

 

Stan laughed. “I can tell.” He said. “You look like got attacked by a fucking leech.” He lightly tapped on Richie’s neck before returning to his hair. “Not to mention your _hair._ ”

 

“Yeah, he found out I like having my hair pulled and the little fucker took advantage of it.” Richie smirked. “But you should see _Eddie_. I don’t know how he’s gonna hide what _I_ did to him.”

 

Stan laughed again. “ _Richie._ Oh my god. Um, Bev has makeup?”

 

“Nah, she wouldn’t get over there in time.” Richie shook his head. “He’s a smart kid. He’ll figure it out. Once you see it, though, Stanny, oh my _god,_ I’m proud of my work.”

 

“You would be.” Stan shook his head. They sat in silence for a few minutes while Stan continued to comb out Richie’s hair. “I’m not sure if I want to know, but did anything else happen?”

 

“I—“ Richie rested his cheek against Stan’s heart to ground him and listened to the steady rhythm for a few minutes. “I told him I love him.” he said quietly. “And that I have since I was fourteen because like… oh my god, you should’ve seen him, Stanny, he looked _so beautiful,_ it was like… I _have_ to tell him.”

 

Stan rolled his eyes, but smiled at Richie fondly. “What’d he say?”

 

“Oh, that’s the best part! He said he loved me back!”

 

“Well, _yeah,_ you guys have loved each other for as long as I can remember.” He sighed. “But you’ve been _insufferable_ for the last year or so. It was exhausting being around you two, honestly. I mean, it was bad enough being around you guys bickering when we were younger and then the flirting… like, really, you guys act more like a couple than Mike and I do. More than _Bev and Ben_ and that’s saying something.”

 

“Yeah, well.” Richie shrugged laced his fingers with Stan’s free hand.

 

“I’m just happy I don’t have to deal with you climbing through my window and complaining about how much you love Eddie but you can’t _do anything_ about it because you’re too scared you’re going to ruin your relationship with him.” Stan rolled his eyes, squeezing Richie’s hand.

 

“Mm, now I can climb through your window to annoy you like when we were kids.”

 

“Why don’t you just save that for Eddie?”

 

“And deprive my Stanny of this beautiful face every once in a while? I don’t think so.” Richie winked, kissing Stan’s knuckles. Stan rolled his eyes and sighed.

 

“You’re impossible.” He said, holding back a yawn.

 

“You love me.”

 

“Mm, most days.” And Stan continued running his fingers through Richie’s hair until they fell asleep, curled around each other like when they were children.

 

When Mrs. Uris opened the door to wake Stan up for breakfast, she took a picture and closed the door quietly to let her boys sleep just a little longer.

 

\----

 

Eddie was lucky, honestly, that Richie’s sweater was big enough that if he pulled it down _just_ right, it could cover his neck. He was even luckier that his mom didn’t really ask any questions this morning when she came in—without knocking—to wake him up. She only wanted to know _why_ he was wearing a sweater while he was sleeping and _oh, are you getting sick, Eddie Bear?_ To which he answered, no, the blankets just fell off in the middle of the night and because he was half asleep, he grabbed the first thing he saw which happened to be a sweater and pulled it on. Thankfully, his mother wasn’t very smart and accepted it. He thought it was a bullshit answer, but whatever. At least she believed him.

 

But while he was dressing and trying to figure out how the _fuck_ he was going to cover all of the hickies on his neck, shoulders, and collarbones—especially on his collarbones, it looked like Richie had a _thing_ for his collarbones—he heard a knock on his window. It surprised him because one, Richie didn’t knock anymore and two, who the _hell_ would be knocking on his window at _this_ time? He grabbed a particularly heavy book from his desk and slowly pushed back his curtains to see Bev carefully perched on the roof outside his window with a bag slung over her shoulder. She was smiling widely. He pushed the window open and quickly pulled her in.

 

“Bev, what the _fuck?_ ”

 

She looked at the book in his hand as she walked over to his bed and sat down on it, crossing her legs under her. “Were you going to hit me with that book?” she smirked. Eddie looked down at it before putting it back on his desk.

 

“I mean, it’s like, nine thirty in the morning. I didn’t know who the fuck was at my window. You guys usually come to the door during the day and Richie doesn’t knock.” He defended, sitting down across from her. He eyed the bag on her lap. “What’re you doing here?”

 

“Well, your mother doesn’t like me, so I doubt she’d let me in.” Bev shrugged. “Anyway, Stan texted me saying you got attacked by leeches this morning and might need help covering it up so you don’t spend the rest of the weekend in the emergency room.”

 

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” he watched as Bev emptied her bag onto the bed.

 

She laughed and tugged on his sweater. “Take your hoodie off, babe.”

 

He did as he was told and tossed it to his desk chair. “How does _Stan_ know anything?”

 

“Because Stan is Richie’s best friend. Where do you think he went after you kicked him out th—holy _fuck,_ what did Richie _do_ to you?” Bev laughed and tapped on Eddie’s chin so he’d lift it up before running her fingers over all of the hickies on his neck. “Jesus, _fuck_ leeches. You look like a _goddamn cheetah_.” She giggled, reaching for her phone. “I need a picture before I cover this shit up.” She lifted Eddie’s chin up again before snapping a picture. “Oh, _Eddie._ ” Her eyes roamed over his shoulders and collarbones. “What did you _do_ after Billy dropped you off?” she asked with wide eyes. “Do I wanna know?” she asked, running her fingers over a particularly dark one on his collarbone. “ _Yes._ Oh, I need _all_ of the details.” She decided, setting her phone back down.

 

Eddie blushed. _“Bev.”_

 

She started sifting through her makeup, ignoring his embarrassment. “Start at the quarry, babe. I want to know how it all started.” She held up a bottle to his neck and frowned, grabbing another and doing the same before nodding. Eddie sighed, knowing there was no way out of this. “You two have been dancing around each other for _years_ and now that it finally happened, I _deserve_ the fucking details. I’ve had to listen to pining from _both_ of you.”

 

Eddie groaned. “Fine. Okay, remember when you pushed me at him when he got in the water?” he started and she nodded eagerly, blending makeup on her hand. “Well, um, you saw that you kind of just… like, took me away?”

 

“As Richie does.” Bev nodded and Eddie watched her blend shades together for a minute, transfixed. It was like watching Bill mix paints together. She looked up, raising her eyebrows, prompting him to continue.

 

“As Richie does.” He agreed sarcastically and she laughed a little. “Anyway, he took us far away from you guys and the _way_ he was looking at me, Bev…” he trailed off, remembering how _impossibly_ soft Richie’s eyes were and how it felt like they were staring into his soul and how it felt like the rest of the world just melted away and—

 

Bev waved her hand in in front of his face. “Alright, lover boy. Enough. What _happened?_ ”

 

Eddie glared at her. “ _Rude._ But he was like, holding me, and we were _close,_ really _close,_ and if I wanted to… I could’ve counted his freckles and then he fucking called me beautiful and—“

 

“Because you _are._ ” Bev said, tilting his head up. He rolled his eyes and shivered when she started dabbing cold foundation on his neck.

 

“And then he _kissed my shoulder._ And he was _touching_ me. Like, his hands were on my back and running up my sides and it felt like I was in fucking _heaven_ and really, I probably could’ve died then and I would’ve been happy. Then he fucking touched my lips and I was _gone._ But like, one minute he was looking at me like… I don’t know, I can’t describe it, Bev, like I was the _fucking sun_ and he’s never really looked at me like that before—“

 

“You’re just not looking when he is.” She said softly, tilting his head to the right and adding more foundation. It wasn’t as cold this time.

 

“And then he was _kissing me._ Like, _really, really_ kissing me. And _oh_ _my god,_ Bev, I’ve never been kissed like that before.” Eddie sighed happily. Bev laughed quietly. “You know how people say when you kiss the person you love, there are fireworks?” she nodded. “Yeah, that’s fucking stupid.” He deadpanned and Bev snorted, dropping his chin. “No, kissing Richie was like…” he struggled to find words for it. “Oh! It was like when I broke my arm and I _really_ felt something for the first time? Kind of like that, except that was bad. But this was _good,_ Bev. _So good._ I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

 

“That good, huh?”

 

“Oh, Bev, you have _no idea._ ” He fell back against his pillows for a second before allowing her to pull him back up. “I never thought I’d like the taste of nicotine and candy, but _fuck,_ I think I’m addicted.”

 

Bev laughed again and started blending more makeup on the back of her hand. “I love _everything_ about this. What happened after Bill dropped you off?”

 

“Well, we almost killed ourselves trying to sneak back in.”

 

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

 

“And we almost woke up my mom because of how loud we were laughing, but after that, we um… we just made out.”

 

“I refuse to believe you got all of these fucking hickies just from _making out._ ” Bev raised an eyebrow as she started on his shoulders.

 

“I’m serious, Bev! I mean, yeah, it got heated, but all we did was makeout.” He blushed.

 

“Oh, what’s that blush for, Kaspbrak?”

 

“We discovered I like being bitten?” Eddie said quietly. “And you _know_ Richie was going to take advantage of that.”

 

“Mm, that doesn’t surprise me.” Bev smirked.

 

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

 

“Eddie, you _laughed_ when you broke your arm. And like, think about your mom. You’ve been sheltered and she like, tries to protect you from every little thing. I mean, it doesn’t _work_ because you have us. But _still._ It makes sense that you’d have at least a little bit of a pain kink.” She shrugged, ruffling his hair affectionately. Eddie rolled his eyes. “Mm, I’m covering all of your pretty freckles.” She frowned. “I’ll figure it out.”

 

“Oh, he told me he loves me.” Eddie said quietly and Bev buried her face in the blankets to muffle her scream. “It was really fucking cute, too. I’ve never seen him look so vulnerable before.”

 

“ _Please_ tell me you told him you love him back.” Bev pleaded, looking up at him. Eddie blushed and nodded. “Fucking finally.” She smiled fondly at him.

 

“Shut up.”

 

“I feel like Richie has a thing for your collarbones by the look of it…” Bev muttered, running a finger over them. Eddie bit his lip.

 

“You think?”

 

“Yeah, those are going to be hard to cover up, babe.”

 

“But you can do it, right?”

 

“I didn’t say I couldn’t. I just said it’ll be hard.” Bev said calmly, gently brushing the hair out of his face. “You boys like making my life difficult, don’t you?” she teased.

 

“Hey, _I_ didn’t do this. _This_ was _all_ Richie.”

 

“Yeah, but you didn’t stop him.”

 

“No, I don’t think I could have even if I wanted to.” Eddie laughed. “It felt too good.”

 

_“Eddie.”_ Bev giggled. “I love this side of you.”

 

“I like it, too.”

 

“Richie’s good for you. And you’re good for him. He loves you _so much,_ Eddie.” She stopped dabbing foundation on his collarbones and looked at him seriously. “You know how Richie is, he has such _a big heart_ and I’ve seriously heard him fucking wax poetry about you. I mean, it was a little stupid and it didn’t really make sense, but it was the sweetest fucking thing. He really does love you with everything he has and—“

 

There was another knock on his window. “Who the _fuck_ is that?” Eddie asked, jumping up. Bev followed him to the window they pushed the curtain back together. Stan was perched on the roof in front of Eddie’s window with a serious case of bedhead and Eddie couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled him in.

 

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked once he fell into the desk chair. Stan sighed and ran his hand through his messy curls and stared at Eddie.

 

“Your boyfriend’s asleep in my bed.” He said. “I mean, it’s not the first time it’s happened, but I kind of feel bad for leaving him there, so.” He shrugged. “But he’s also my best friend and I kind of felt obligated to come over and talk to you.”

 

Bev giggled. “Oh my god, are you giving Eddie _the talk?_ ”

 

“Wait, are you _still_ covering up hickies?” he asked Bev.

 

“Yes! Wanna see what Richie fucking did to our innocent Eddie?” She grabbed her phone and handed it to Stan. He took it and his eyes widened.

 

“I mean, he looked bad, but _fuck,_ Richie mauled you, didn’t he?”

 

Eddie just blushed and Bev went back to work. “It looks like Richie has a thing for his collarbones.” She said casually. “But I can’t blame him, really. They _are_ pretty.”

 

Stan hummed, leaning forward in his seat.

 

“Back to the reason why you’re here, Stanny?” Bev raised an eyebrow.

 

“Right.” Stan wheeled over to the bed. “Okay, Eddie, I’ve known you for probably ten years now. And I trust you with my life and I love you, _but._ ” He sighed. “I swear to _god,_ if you break Richie’s heart, I will break your legs.”

 

“ _Can_ you break his legs?”

 

“Bev, shut up. You’re taking away the seriousness of my threat.”

 

“I’m just saying…”

 

Stan ignored her and pushed on. “I know you love him, but you _can’t_ give up on him. Okay? You’re going to be good for him. But you can’t give up on him. You can’t walk away. He loves you _so fucking much._ ” He said seriously and Eddie nodded. “I just need you to understand that, okay? Just—don’t hurt him. He’s been hurt enough.” He sighed. “And I know you know that, but still.”

 

“I won’t hurt him, Stan.” Eddie assured him.

 

“I know you won’t, Eddie.” Stan nodded. “But still—I’ll break your legs if you do.”

 

“Got it. Broken legs.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Wait, how can you leave Richie alone in your room? Won’t your mom care if she found him there?” Eddie asked. Stan laughed.

 

“My mom thinks of Richie as her own. She wouldn’t be surprised. But I should probably get going.” He stood up and ruffled Eddie’s hair affectionately. “Sorry about that, Eddie, it’s just… you know, he’s my best friend and I kind of worry about him sometimes, you know?”

 

“I know.”

 

Stan leaned over and kissed Bev on the forehead before climbing out of the window again.

 

“Oh, I love their friendship.” Bev smiled, dusting some powder over Eddie’s collarbones. “It’s honestly so pure.”

 

“I never thought I’d hear Stan threaten to break my legs.” Eddie laughed. “I mean, I don’t doubt him, but wow.”

 

“Like they bicker and fight, but they’re actually so soft for each other, it’s so sweet.” She said, leaning back and admiring her work.

 

“I walked in on them cuddling once a few weeks ago and it was the most precious thing I’ve ever seen.” He agreed.

 

Bev grabbed her phone and took another picture. “Before and after.” She said, handing it to him.

 

“I swear to god, Bevvie, you’re magic.”

 

"I do what I can." she smiled, kissing his cheek. 

 

 


End file.
